


caught me lingering.

by halowrites



Category: Popslash
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-07
Updated: 2011-03-07
Packaged: 2017-10-16 04:13:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/168292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halowrites/pseuds/halowrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>all Britney needs is a good man. so does JC, really. :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	caught me lingering.

It’s her laugh he hears first, low and just a little too loud, and then she’s calling out to him over the heads of a half-dozen people clustered around her.

“JC! Jaaaay-ceee!” Drawing it out, slightly-slurred, pink mouth turned down in a lush pout. “Over here, baby.”

He grins, despite himself. “Hey, mami. You having fun?”

“So much, baby.” Soft, smeary eyes and the very tip of her tongue, and she smiles big and bright as he sits down. “Y’all have no idea.”

“Oh, I think I do.” He watches as she takes a drink of beer, black-tipped fingers against the neck of the bottle, glistening a little from the condensation. The pale line of her throat as she swallows, and then she’s watching him, too. Closely, carefully.

“You said some nice things about me,” she says, suddenly serious, intense. “On the TV, I saw—you said that. That I —“

“I meant it,” JC says. “I think that—“

She leans closer, a dark curtain of hair, sweet damp skin and the faint scent of beer on her breath. “Thank you.” Her fingers on his wrist, a tiny shock of coolness against his skin for a moment. “I know Justin’s your friend, and, I just, I wanted. Thank you.” The last words tumble out in a rush, tripping off her tongue and she pulls a face, wrinkles her nose, back to nothing more than happily-buzzed.

“Anytime, honey,” JC says softly, surprised at just how much he means exactly that. He lifts his bottle to hers, a bright clink as they knock together, Britney’s laugh washing over him as he drinks.

 

*

 

“Still having fun?” Behind him, shimmying close, whispered in his ear, barely audible over the music. JC tips his head back and back and back until it rests on her shoulder, the two of them still moving to the bassline, and when she laughs, he can feel the echo of it chasing down his spine.

He spins around and wraps his hands around her hips, the arch of bone snug in his palms, a slow roll as she grinds against him, into him. “Oh,” she breathes, mouth falling open, colour high on her cheeks, eyes half-lidded with sleepy pleasure, and heat pulses low in JC’s belly.

“C’mon mami,” he whispers, fingers tightening to draw her even closer in, spreading his legs a little to brace himself, feeling her response in the way she moves to straddle his thigh. She’s rocking herself forward, arcing upward and then back down, her skirt rucking higher as she moves, glimpses of pale skin when JC looks down to watch. He shifts one hand to the small of her back, pressing gently against the base of her spine, a steady flex and release, matching her rhythm. He slips his other hand below her skirt and into the shadowed crease of her thigh, then lower still, dipping into damp, slippery heat. She sucks in a sharp breath then lets it out in a soft, shuddery moan, bucking into the glide of his hand, tiny increments of movement that increase in urgency until she’s riding his fingers helplessly, breath hot against his neck, a slick pulse he feels in his fingertips as she comes around them.

 

*

 

She’s brilliantly dishevelled, and JC doesn’t know how she’s found this dark corner, but she has, taking his hand and leading him through the press of bodies like it’s nothing at all. Like she’s not still wet and swollen beneath her skirt, a tiny tremor in her throat that matches the quick breaths she takes as she sits astride him now, her hands tracing over the outline of his cock, thick and hard in his pants. The smell of her all over his fingers, and,

“I haven’t even kissed you yet,” he says.

She smiles at him, all loose-limbed and sated now she’s gotten off. “Baby,” she murmurs against his mouth, “such a romantic.” Her tongue slips past his lips, the taste of her smoky-sweet and a little wild. They kiss until JC’s dizzy with it, with the taste of her, the way she’s pressed close, damp heat and her fingers skating over his erection until he’s rocking upward into her touch, getting closer to the edge with every movement.

She’s the first to pull away, and he can’t help the tiny noise of frustration that slips out.

“Brit—“

“Shhh.” She presses her fingertips against his mouth, raising herself up on her knees until she’s looking down at him. With her other hand, she gathers up her skirt, the fabric bunching softly over her thighs until she’s fully exposed to him, and as he watches, she fingers herself languorously, tongue caught between her teeth, rolling her hips in slow circles. When she speaks, it seems like forever before JC can make sense of her words, before they fall into some semblance of order. Even then, he’s not sure if he really heard what she said.

“What?” The tilt of her hips is hypnotic, the swell of her belly, the way her fingers move and glisten between her thighs. JC shifts restlessly, achingly hard, his cock leaking dampness he can feel.

She smiles, infinitely patient, tips her head forward. “Did you and Justin ever talk about me?”

“No,” JC says, too quickly, and she knows it too, her eyes snapping back to meet his, her gaze sure and steady.

“Liar,” she says on a long, exhaled breath, “such a liar, baby.” Almost to herself, her eyes slipping closed, both hands between her legs now, black-tipped nails on slick pink, until she’s falling forward in a curl of pleasure, soft sounds from the back of her throat that fall onto JC’s skin, hot and bright. He can’t wait anymore, can’t stop, shifting her aside just enough to tug his pants open and pull out his cock, the skin hot and tight against his palm. He runs his thumb over the tip, through the moisture beaded there, shuddering at the spike of pleasure that thrums through him, resting hot and heavy in his balls. His turn to moan now, low and needy, and when Britney’s fingers wrap around to jerk him off, JC swears softly under his breath, biting his lip to keep from crying out.

“C’mon, baby,” she says, kissing the words into his neck, her turn to call the shots with her mouth and tongue and slow, deliberate strokes, keeping him dancing on the very edge, until his skin is flushed and aching with arousal. “C’mon,” she says again, a shock of teeth into the curve of his collarbone and JC’s arching up helplessly, coming hard and hot all over her hand, over himself, coming apart in a way he hasn’t in a very long time.

 

*

 

Cool glass against his fingertips as another beer is pressed into his hand, the bottle almost slipping from his hand before he can grab it securely. JC turns around to scan the crowd, and that’s when he sees her slipping back into the crush, long dark hair tangled hopelessly around her bare shoulders, her arms thrown high as she starts to dance.

He’s watching.


End file.
